


To Never Extinguish

by avyssoseleison



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Canon Compliant, Fluff, Fluff and Angst, Gift Fic, Happy Ending, M/M, Teenager - Young Adult Dean, Young Adult Jimmy
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-12-31
Updated: 2014-12-31
Packaged: 2018-03-04 13:26:36
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,167
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3069797
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/avyssoseleison/pseuds/avyssoseleison
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Not yet a vessel, but led by the hand of an angel. To the one who needs it the most -- and Jimmy needs it, too.</p>
            </blockquote>





	To Never Extinguish

**Author's Note:**

  * For [FagurFiskur](https://archiveofourown.org/users/FagurFiskur/gifts).



> This one is for my bae [perlukafari](http://perlukafari.tumblr.com/), who understands my needs and deserves all the Dean x Jimmy in the world! Happy new year, lovely!

Jimmy doesn’t know why, but from one moment to the next, there is this ache, like longing, blooming inside him.

He’s on break from college, home in Pontiac for some time, and innocently sitting in his room when it starts up; his chest clenches, his palms get sweaty and his feet become restless. He craves to leave the room, the house, to get onto his bike and ride down to the edge of the city, to where the shabby motels are lining up the street, and he doesn’t know why. He suspects that maybe he has gone too long without being with a girl, because even though he can’t really put a finger on why he has to go to the motels, he knows that this is where the prostitutes are, where most of them live and work, and maybe his body simply tells him that he needs to get laid.

This ache holds on for the rest of the day and all of the night, making him toss and turn in his bed, sweaty and restless, and as soon as it becomes dawn, he scrambles out of his blankets and onto his bike. He does so quietly and sneakily, because his parents are well aware that he has no friends in that part of the city, but they know who else lingers there, and as Christian as they are, they would probably ground him for the rest of his stay or maybe his life for going to a prostitute, even if he is already in college and too old to be grounded.

When he arrives at the first motel on the long stretch of road, he halts and decides to have a look around. After all, he has no clue what he is searching for anyway, just that he does, so he might as well try to take in as much as possible, in case he finally understands what he wants. Maybe it actually _is_ a prostitute. Though he doubts that at around eight in the morning, many of them would still be around instead of sleeping off their night of working.

He looks around, aimlessly, greeting some sleep-drunk or actually drunk people staggering in or out of the motel rooms every now and then, some of them grunting at him in acknowledgment, some of them in disdain, but they are not what Jimmy feels to be looking for.

He just rounds one of the corners of the stray buildings of the motel when he sees a small boy with brown, shaggy hair skipping down the little path to where the road leading away from the motel is, to where the bus stop is. He yells something or another, but Jimmy doesn’t even register what, because it only takes him a second to take in whom he is yelling to, and as soon as Jimmy sees the other boy, he forgets the rest of the world, forgets anything that isn’t a bit younger than him and dirty-blond and green-eyed and goddamn _beautiful._

In an instant, Jimmy knows that this boy is what he’s here for.

Hesitantly and shaking, he draws closer to the boy, before he could retreat into his motel room, and Jimmy’s voice is just as hesitant and shaky, but he manages to introduce himself, manages to get the other boy’s, _Dean’s_ _,_ name in return, and a small, albeit suspicious smile.

With neither of them having anything better to do, they spend the day with each other. Doing grocery runs, exploring the city, going to a bar at which Dean manages to win every game of pool. The next day, they climb a small hill at the edge of the city, visit the library to read there, skip stones at the small pond in the city park.

They strike up a friendship, over days and weeks. And it’s nice, it’s easy, it makes Jimmy smile when he gets back home at the end of the day, and best of all, Dean always smiles, too.

Because Jimmy likes being with Dean — likes _Dean_.

They share their first kiss some weeks into being friends, after each of them had a few bottles of beer, and there is the taste of alcohol there, but also the sweet taste of Dean, of this beautiful boy, that makes Jimmy kiss deeper, open wider, become greedier. It doesn’t take them more than a day after that to go even further; Dean’s dad is away, somewhere Dean won’t say, and Sam is sleeping over at a friend’s house. Dean and Jimmy have the motel room to themselves, and as soon as Dean says this out loud, they are all over each other, kissing and breathing and tugging at clothes. If Jimmy thought Dean’s mouth tasted sweet, his body, especially certain parts of him, tastes even sweeter, as do his moans. Afterwards, hey fall asleep on one of the beds, kissing slowly and touching the other’s naked skin, and it’s perfect. Dean is perfect.

But as it is with all perfect things, this, too, can’t last. They share a handful of more nights with each other, and stolen kisses and gropes, and smiles. But then, without Jimmy realizing, his break his coming to an end, he has to go back to California, to university, and they have to say goodbye. He promises Dean to be back as soon as he can, trying to chase away that sad, resigned look on Dean’s face that remains even when Dean smiles at him and tells him that he knows, that he trusts Jimmy to come back. It’s difficult to part, unbearably so, and it seems like there is still too much of Dean to touch and taste and see, too much to take in during their last minutes, until Jimmy has to get on his bike and ride home and pack his stuff for the flight in the morning. And even though neither of them cries, Jimmy knows he, at least, desperately wants to.

He kisses Dean’s forehead and cheeks and lips and the tip of his nose and promises, with all the confidence he can muster, that they will see each other soon.

When Jimmy returns to Pontiac two months later, the motel owner tells him that no Winchesters have ever checked into her motel, but that if Jimmy asks for that skanky boy and his drunken father and that poor little child who could have had it so much better, they skipped town weeks ago.

*

When Jimmy finally has the chance to get a proper look at both of the men who pulled him from the debris in that warehouse and brought him to safety, his eyes stop and widen at the smaller one, pretty and green-eyed and perfect, and he is unable to keep himself from staring at him.

The man, though, is already staring back at him.

"I know you," Jimmy states, questions, slightly breathless.

"Yeah," Dean confirms, his pink tongue peeking out to wet his lips just so, "You do."

 


End file.
